Portrait of a Young Woman
by wantedvicissitude
Summary: Évelyne Wayne, previously trained assassin for the League of Shadows and now Bruce Wayne's youngest and only blood child is struggling in her relationship with her father and everyone around her. She has no where to go after she turned her back on the league and became a target, is it really best for her to stay at Wayne Manor? Can she forget the past and become a Wayne heiress?
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter One:_

Évelyne was in her first class of the day, Advanced Visual Arts, and she was sitting on a stool by her canvas in the back of the classroom. The lighting from the windows was doing her wonders and she was a good distance away from the sinks. Her graphite was held in her sweating hand, she couldn't think of anything that symbolized her.

A family portrait? No, it was far too complex and would take her several class periods, something she couldn't afford. _A memory? _

Standing up, she hurried over to the art cabinets, opening them she bent down and grabbed the oil pastel tray picking it up and placing it on the counter. Then getting the tray containing watercolor packs. As she picked through oil pastel pieces back at her canvas, someone reached his hand in and took out a pristine looking red.

"Can I use this?" Vincent Tyler asked her, "Mine got stolen by some underclassmen."

"Just give it back," she said, nodding. He smiled and sat back down at his seat by his friends. As she began swinging her tight covered legs she turned the canvas landscape and began to draw a basic house with a simple sketching pencil. The palace began to rise from the ground, shadows extended where the moonlight couldn't touch-

"Évelyne? How are you doing?"

She sucked in a breath as a black streak appeared out of her original sketch. Gritting her teeth she looked into her teacher's face. Taking note of his eyes flitting from her to the turned canvas, she worked up a smile and said, "I'm doing fine, Mister Bertram."

"May I see?"

Students turned their heads and some snorted, turning their own paintings away, their eyes averted.

"This is a very powerful piece, Miss Wayne." Charles Bertram complemented. "Very much like the artist Dmitri Spiros' work, were you inspired by him?"

"I'm sorry, I have never heard of him, Mister Bertram, I am a bit out of touch with Russian art." She met his brown eyes and then said, "I was inspired by my memories, you see."

"Ah," He touched her shoulder, "This canvas will earn you an A, I am sure."

She smiled once more and dipped a flat paintbrush into her yellow watercolor, her neighbor, Kristen, peeked over at her painting once more and her eyes flitted from Évelyne's icy gaze. The art teacher moved to Kristen's canvas, commenting dryly on her paint strokes. Évelyne smile broadened as her academic rival cursed lightly when the teacher turned to another student. As she blended her colors together, she noticed, out the corner of her eye, Kristen's tablet had been left open on her word document.

As the class began to clean up, ten minutes before the bell rang, Évelyne was fuming. How dare that girl copy her work, a monochrome woman standing on a building? Standing up and tugging the headband so her dark locks fell around her face, she washed her brushes and put her canvas stand by the door, and then sat back in her stool. Tapping the power button of the tablet, she worked quickly, opening the document labeled; Winter Break Writing Assignment, English. Deleting the file and removing it from the recycling bin, she picked up the paintbrush with red paint left over from texturing, she went over to wash it as the bell rang.

Kristen gave her a look as she left the classroom, Évelyne looked away so she could smile.

* * *

After school, Évelyne waited by the school grounds for Alfred to pick her up. Her newest piece of work was wrapped and by her side. As a black window tinted limo pulled into the parking lot full of SUVs, Range Rovers, and a familiar butler stepped out of the driver's seat and caught her eye, she started forward.

"Wait! Évelyne! Hey!"

At hearing her name called out, Évelyne turned and scanned the crowd, seeing a fellow Latin classmate hurrying towards her. Her eyebrows raised in surprise as the girl stood in front of her, it was clear from her shortness of breath and slightly frizzy hair she had run to find her.

"Hi, Kaela. What do you need?"

"It's about Kristen Yale."

"Yes?" Évelyne's face did not betray the slight clinch in her stomach.

"You're number one on the principal's award list, it was just updated today."

Évelyne smiled, Kaela smiled back, it was clear the girl had a crush on her. Kaela was always partnering with her for work, asking her questions and blushing half the time.

"Thanks for telling me, Kaela. I'll text you later?"

"Yes. Uh, bye." Kaela waved as she got into a Range Rover on the other side of the parking lot, Évelyne waved back as she got into the back of the limo, NPR whispered from the front and Alfred turned it off. She liked Alfred, he always remembered she didn't like the seat warmers and always had a bottle of sparkling water in the fridge for her to drink. However, as it began to rain Alfred turned on the heat and the windshield wipers.

"Lady Évelyne? Is it alright if I go and pick Master Bruce from the office on our way back to Wayne Manor?"

"Of course, Alfred." She opened the bottle and took a swig.

As the downpour increased and the traffic to Wayne Enterprises slowed, Évelyne kicked off her Mary Janes and pulled her sketchbook out of her Prada bag. She had to turn in her sketchbook to be graded in a few weeks and she needed more projects in her book than on a canvas.

Bruce Wayne let out a curse as he entered the car, placing his wet umbrella on the opposite seat.

"_Master Wayne_..."

"Sorry Alfred," Bruce buckled himself in. "It's the accountant for the engineering sector." As the car turned out of the lot and the paparazzi failed to get a shot through the tinted windows as they waited for traffic to get moving, they sat in companionable silence.

"I'm the top of my class." Évelyne said as they moved through the city. "The results were posted today."

"That's good." Bruce was reading over reports from his overseas companies. Clearly he didn't have time to wish her anything else, so she continued working, albeit a bit louder with her pencils.

* * *

Dick Grayson walked over the threshold of Wayne Manor, he still wasn't used to the crystal and silver chandelier that hung over his head, or the clean marble floors that stretched until replaced by chestnut wood.

"Master Richard, what a pleasant surprise. There are some butterscotch brownies left from the Wayne Manor Picnic the other day, would you like one?" Alfred entered the room, taking his coat and police belt. Alfred raised his eyebrow and gave the bouquet of hyacinths, tulips, irises, and hydrangeas in his hand a look.

"These are for Évelyne, I saw the class scores today."

"She will be delighted, I am sure. I will find a vase." Alfred also took the bouquet off his hands and went into the kitchen, Dick followed after abandoning his muddy shoes.

"How is she doing?" Dick asked as he sat at the kitchen counter, a brownie on a plate in front of him. As Alfred filled a vase with water, he motioned for Dick to shut the doors. "Is it that bad?" Dick asked after he checked for bugs and closed the doors tightly.

"She has made acquaintances in class," Alfred admitted as he arranged the flowers in an ornate vase. "But her relationship with Master Wayne has not been improving much, I'm afraid to say. I fear it is getting worse."

"Shit," Dick cursed, then apologized as he was given a world-class batglare. "Sorry, Alfred. I just thought things would be getting better."

"You heard, of course, that he is refusing to take her on as Robin?"

"Yeah, Évelyne told me at lunch last weekend."

"Oh," Alfred's lip twitched. "I see you two are working past differences."

"More like avoiding them," Dick joked. "She tries not to show how much it hurts her, but its obvious. She spends most of her free time shut up in her room or in the gym. Didn't Bruce fix up the sunroom into an art studio?"

"She refused it." Alfred fussed over each flower's individual height.

"Oh, no wonder he was so ticked when we talked the other day." He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Well, I better send up those flowers and my congratulations."

"Right you are, Master Richard," Alfred handed him a plate of brownies and the flower vase. "I hope you will be staying for pot roast?"

"I will," Dick called from the bottom of the stairs. As he moved up the long marble steps and on the second floor, he headed right to the west wing where the old children's rooms were. Balancing a plate and vase in both hands he stood in front of the door. "Évelyne, guess who?"

He heard a sigh of exasperation and he smiled as the door was flung open.

* * *

**Author's Note: I just wanted to say I was in English today when I thought of this, I don't take art, I have no skills with a pencil except for writing stories. I will update at least twice a week because school started and I have to study and do homework! Despite the workload I am happy to be back. Bye! Read and review! **


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two:_

"I'm surprised you chose this room," Dick said as he watched Évelyne put the brownies on her chestnut bedside table and look for a place for the vase. "It's one of the oldest in this place, it's always cold."

"It has a balcony," Évelyne said, adjusting the vase on her desk. Pushing sketchbooks and textbooks away to make room. "Why did you buy me these, Dick?"

"I saw the class scores online," Dick teased, closing his eyes and lying on her antique canopy bed. "You didn't think I wouldn't spoil my baby sister after that, hmm?"

"Don't call me that," Évelyne snapped, almost knocking her colored pencil holder to the ground. "You're here to check on me, aren't you? Want to see how I'm doing." She turned to face him.

"Yeah, how's it going?" He opened one eye to look at her.

"Wonderful, you can leave now."

"Nope, I'm going to feast on these brownies, and you're going to tell me about that." He pointed to the half-finished circus tent watercolor canvas that was perched by her stool.

"Tch," Évelyne's cheeks darkened and she sat on the stool, her back to him, taking a detail brush and began coloring the edges of the yellow stripes with a gold tint. Several minutes passed while Dick slowly picked pieces off the brownie, like a bird, and ate them. Évelyne continued to work the edges of her work with contrast until she turned on her stool and pointed her paintbrush at him. "Can't you take a hint? Get out!"

Before Dick could speak, Évelyne's cell phone rang on the nightstand. Évelyne stood and hurried across the room, but Dick picked up the cell phone and rolled onto the other side of the bed as Évelyne took a swipe at him.

"'A text message from Kaela McKenna_'_," Dick smiled as Évelyne's face turned red. "Uh oh, Évelyne, she needs the Latin homework, she can't remember what it was."

"Give it to me!" Évelyne hissed, launching herself across the room at him. He tossed the offending cell at her and she caught it, glaring at him as she texted the girl back. Dick grin widened as the phone buzzed back almost immediately, and he ducked as a mason jar used for paint water was chucked at his head.

Putting her phone in her pant's pocket she walked back to her stool and canvas, sat down and began working on the circus canopy top. And didn't turn around once until Dick shut the door behind him, quietly, as if not to wake a sleeping baby.

* * *

Évelyne loved being surrounded by mirrors, dancing perfect combinations, but the main reason she took Modern Jazz as her health elective was because none of her brother's had ever taken it. So for an hour and a half every other day, she was at peace.

"No slacking off, ladies!" Rachel was like most teachers at Gotham Academy, no-nonsense, and only expected anything more than perfection from her students. Rachel aimed her stare at Évelyne, who felt her insides shake as they stared at each other for what felt like a thousand years. "Miss Wayne?" Rachel said.

She widened her blue eyes, pretending to look innocent. "Yes?"

"Come up here, please."

The other girls stood completely still, watching her move to the front on the mirrored walls. When Évelyne arrived, Rachel put a hand on her shoulder. "You were excellent." Rachel smiled and then said to the class, "I want you to watch Miss Wayne on our last routine of the day. "Not only does she have the right attitude, but she seems to be the only girl who completely understands this routine."

Kaela began clapping and everyone else felt obliged to join. Kaela's green eyes, which had been wide and fearful, were now sparkling with delight.

Winking at Kaela and tightening her hairband, Évelyne smiled, all those extra hours at home were paying off. She found herself wishing her father could see her, in her big moment, and realize she was number one. She led the entire class through Misery by Maroon Five, every student copying her move for three minutes and thirty-one seconds.

When the song ended one of the girls, Jennifer Wheeler, said, "We're out of time." And when Rachel nodded in assent, the other girls rushed off to the showers. As Rachel packed her bags and the last girl left the gym, Évelyne asked, "Can I lead next time?"

"Maybe," Rachel gave her a sympathetic smile and left the gym for lunch.

Évelyne stood by one of the mirrors and looked. At five foot five, she was taller than most girls at fifteen and below average when it came to her boobs. At formal occasions and parties boys asked her to dance with them, always emailing or texting her to see if they could hang out sometime, but Évelyne always declined. She had a distinct feeling that their parents just wanted them to get together and marry.

She walked back to the locker room, it was the last class that day and she wasn't in any hurry. She peeled off her gym uniform and padded across the steamy room to the showers, where Kaela was wrapping a towel around herself.

"You were so on today," Kaela said when she realized Évelyne was there. "Your timing was perfect and you didn't miss a step."

"Thanks," Évelyne had begun to enjoy Kaela's complements and began seeing past her obvious crush, discovering Kaela's skill in musical instruments and web design was just extra. "Maybe you'll say something to Rachel?"

"I'll try."

Évelyne stepped into the shower and washed her hair with shampoo and conditioner, knowing Kaela would wait for her. She stepped out the shower and began towel-drying her hair. Kaela looked abashed as she looked away.

Once Évelyne was wrapped in a towel again, Kaela began to talk about the Norman's company and how it had gone bankrupt, and how everyone was talking about them losing their mansion and everything. Évelyne nodded along to this one-sided conversation as they left the building, closing the doors behind them.

"That's why Taylor and Florence weren't at school today." Kaela continued as they looked for their cars. "They couldn't afford to pay for another day."

"Tragic." Évelyne spotted Alfred. "I'll call you?"

* * *

There was something going on, Évelyne decided a half an hour later as she sat eating dinner with her family. The manor often felt large and quiet, but as they sat eating succulent roasted chicken there was something tense about it. As if a bomb was about to drop somewhere close.

"Can I be excused?" She addressed the butler hanging by the table.

"Homework?" Bruce asked, putting his chunk of chicken back down.

This was the first thing he had said to her in a few days, so Évelyne was a little startled he was speaking to her. "Yes." Évelyne said, cooly.

"You hardly touched your chicken." Alfred looked at her almost untouched plate.

Évelyne ate another piece of zucchini and said, "I'm done."

"Évelyne." Bruce called as she was just out of the dining room. "We need to talk."


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter Three:_

* * *

_To answer animesbff13's question, yes, Évelyne is Damian as a female. But she is different character wise, she is more composed, aloof, than Damian is/was. But she still has a temper and is impulsive on occasion, like Damian. Mostly because she is older, and because I feel as if Talia would have trained Évelyne to be like her._

* * *

Évelyne watched her father accept a shifter glass of cognac from Alfred, which surprised her, her father rarely drank, she had sat in her father's office for a half-hour in silence and was wondering why she was there. Her painting of a coven of witches performing their ritual by a bonfire was above the mahogany fireplace, and made her father seem like the perfect, society father that sent his daughter to a conservative private school, making her refined and polished into the 'perfect' maiden that would one day bind two companies or corporations together.

"You have a teacher named Charles Bertram?" Bruce finally spoke, his eyes met her's for only a moment. There was no spark, no emotion. This was an interrogation.

His question surprised her, and sent a million ideas and theories off in her head. Was her favorite teacher dead? Was it her own fault? "Yes," Évelyne said, uneasily. "He's my art teacher."

"Was," Bruce corrected her, adjusting his glass so Alfred could replenish it with more nectar. "He was taken into custody earlier today."

There was silence, her forehead wrinkled and she said, trying to keep her tone steady, "I don't understand. What happened?" She clenched her fists to keep them from shaking.

"He was responsible for the murder of five of your classmates."

"Who? Who did he kill?" Mister Bertram, her clumsy art teacher that knew so much, had so much ahead of him... _Murders could be anyone, he could have been a psychopath, _she coached herself as the room began blurring. _But I should have known, I was trained to spot everything, to __know__ everything, but... What now? What have I been blind to? What did I miss? _

"He mutilated the bodies of Rachel Smalls, Lillian Oliver, Vincent Tyler-"

"_Can I use this?" Vincent Tyler asked her, "Mine got stolen by some underclassmen." _

"_Just give it back," she said, nodding. He smiled and sat back down at his seat by his friends. _

"-Daniel Rowe, and Mackenzie Mcguire. All students in your class." Bruce ended, his tone was rough and coarse, like Batman's.

_Mackenzie, Rachel, Lillian, the girls that had ignored her and shunned her since she arrived. Vincent and Daniel, who flirted with her and other girls. All connected to her, all things Mister Bertram must have seen. _

"Batman raided his apartment, he had pictures of you everywhere, and the pictures of his victims slashed and marred." Bruce watched her, she felt goosebumps on her arms and her barely eaten dinner sloshing in her stomach. "Did you pursue a relationship with him?"

"No!" Évelyne jumped to her feet, her chair toppled on the floor. "Of course not! He was my teacher!"

"He had paintings of yours in his house, paintings that were never sent out of school. There were no records of him ever signing off the artwork to other establishments." His eyes were stern, but there was something else, was it shame? Shame of something he thought - no, knew she had done. Évelyne the assassin with no morals, Évelyne the girl who had only enemies, Évelyne who would most certainly pursue a relationship with a man more than ten years older than herself.

"How dare you!" Évelyne's face flushed red, "This is such _bullshit_!"

"Lady Évelyne," Alfred pulled his head out of the sand. "Please-"

"You would assume that, wouldn't you," Évelyne let out a derisive laugh and slammed her palms on the desk. "Évelyne, the daughter you are _embarrassed_ of because my birth, my upbringing. You think of me as a problem that my mother tied in a bow and dropped on your doorstep. programmed to screw up your work as Batman!"

"Évelyne, that's not why I am asking you this!" Bruce had no qualms about raising his voice, either. "Did you or did you not court with this man!"

"Bruce!" A voice called from downstairs, "Bruce, where are you?"

They both recognized the speaker, it was Dick. Évelyne called out, "Dick! We're up here! In the office!"

"Évelyne-" Bruce began, clearly he did not want Dick to hear.

"He can hear what we have to say, or, well, what you have to say because my words mean nothing to you." Évelyne spat out, turning on her heel and throwing open the double doors. There was a tense moment before Officer Grayson hurried down the hall and to the doors. His uniform was still on and his eyes were tired, but wary as he saw the emotion in his father's and sister's faces.

"I see I'm a little late," he seemed to try to prepare for damage control. "Bruce, Évelyne was never dating Mr. Bertram, so she can go. And Évelyne, Bruce..." Dick couldn't find the words. "Just, just wait for me in your room, alright?"

"Don't bother, I'm leaving for Kaela's, I won't be back for another week or so." Évelyne pushed past her elder brother and hastened to her room, heavy footfalls followed her and a large hand pulled her back, her small heel twisted in the carpet as she skidded to a halt and the hands wrapped around her waist.

"You're my daughter Évelyne, you know that, right?" Bruce finally said, his head on the top of her's. She was taken aback, then a wave of something like sadness. She thought she had grown too old for her father's words to hurt her, but fifteen wasn't as old as she thought.

"Am I?" Évelyne choked out, pulling out of his grip and rushing to her room, slamming and shutting the door behind her, throwing herself on the bed and pulled her knees to her chest. Her phone lay far away by her unfinished canvas, but she didn't move to pick it up, she was too busy trying to pull herself together.

When moonlight shone across the manor grounds and the house was empty besides Alfred. Évelyne checked her phone, it was buzzing with messages. She had a picture message from an unknown number, she loaded it and turned the screen.

It was an oil pastel work of her, naked, surrounded by vines and thorns, she was on her knees, extending her right arm for the single rose just out of her reach. The message at the bottom almost made her sick; _This was inspired by my memories, my dear Évelyne._

Évelyne highlighted the number with shaking hands and redialed, the other phone was picked up by the fifth ring.

"Mister Bertram?" She whispered.

* * *

**A.N. I just wanted you to know that I have struggled to move forward with this story, and after reading Jane Eyre I have found my muse once again! I will only be able to update on weekends due to the massive workload I have been given this semester. Bye-Bye! **


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